


Presentation Isn't Everything

by CaitClandestine



Category: All Time Low
Genre: Bandagekink!Alex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 08:27:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4053316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaitClandestine/pseuds/CaitClandestine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex has a bandage kink and Jack finds out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Presentation Isn't Everything

**Author's Note:**

> This is so old i'm pretty sure it's one of the first remotely sexy things I ever wrote so i've touched it up a little and brought it here for posterity :)

Alex is a dude and as a dude he likes sex. That's normal. It's even normal to like sex a whole lot, it is pretty awesome.

What he's sure is not normal is the fact that he gets off on wrapping himself in bandages. In fact, he would consider it fucking weird and if it were anyone else he would definitely be creeped out.

Sometimes it not even a sex thing, he just likes the way they start off cool as he wraps them up his arms, the way they're all secure and warm, like a cocoon. He feels safest when he's curled up in bed, arms, legs and torso all neatly wrapped up. It's better than any pill he's ever been prescribed and it's calming like nothing else.

Of course, sometimes it is totally a sex thing. He loves coming on his own bandaged stomach, the way the fabric darkens and sticks to him even more, the way his bandaged palms wrap around his cock, dark with lube but still so deliciously rough.

It turns out it's not even a kink that Google can define, not really. The closest thing he's found is mummification. (Which had freaked him right the fuck out and Jack's shown him some crazy shit in the past) It's nothing like what he does. He doesn't want to be hurt or tortured or completely unable to move, he just likes the sensation.

The main problem he encounters is that it's hard (Hee. Hard.) to put his kink into play when they're on tour, travelling with at least ten other dudes with no sense of personal space doesn't really lend itself to carrying anything you don't want the world to see in your luggage.

He figures no ones going to suspect anything if he's got a few scarves in his bunk and they're not the same, not as cool and they don't wrap as well but it's good enough in the small, snatched moments he gets to himself.

But they've been on tour for almost a month now and he's getting kind of antsy. Anxiety eats away at him before shows and he can tell the others are worried about a repeat of the Dammit incident, but he's fine. He just needs a hotel night.

A hotel night which they've been denied because the Four Seasons employee Flyzik had been organising stuff with had fucked up, badly. Pissed off Matt Flyzik is a very dangerous entity and no ones willing to complain and just say they could stay somewhere else at the risk of his wrath being turned on them.

So, Alex has a plan. Not a sexy plan, his scarves are enough for that, just a comfort plan. He knows they have a first aid kid on the bus, lord knows they probably have about three of the damn things and for good reason, they're clumsy fuckers when drunk. Especially Vinny.

Alex figures he can pretend to trip and hurt his wrist and Rian will wrap it for him and he'll suffer through some ice and then retreat to his bunk, curl him arm close to his chest and catch up on some sleep, no questions asked. Maybe jerk off when he wakes up.

Except his fake trip makes him land on his ass and everyone sees and there are no do overs, he's paranoid about being found out. The guys are worried enough about him already, if they think he's throwing himself at the ground shit will go down.

He tries to avoid the feeling of helplessness that's catching up with him. He can wait for christs sake, he's a grown man.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three days later and the hotel issue has been resolved. Namely, Matt had told the Four Seasons just where they could shove their multi-room discount and gone back to the Hilton. They're totally classy enough.

It's just after midnight and as far as Alex knows the rest of the band and crew are out on the town. Well, apart from Matt and Danny. They're supposedly 'working on tour stuff' but come on, Alex is not twelve, he knows they're fucking.

Alex himself had declined, claiming a headache and now he's shrugging on a coat so he can head out to the twenty-four hour convenience store he'd seen down the other end of the block. He can be done and dusted before Jack comes back to their shared room.

He feels like James Bond almost, on a stealthy mission of stealth to buy a roll of ace bandage and some painkillers to keep up with his story. Thankfully the streets are pretty quiet and the hotel is far enough away from that nights venue that they're unlikely to have stalkers and even if they did, they've probably followed the guys to whatever club they're at.

To his relief the store is mostly empty but he hangs his shoulders as he strides down the aisles all the same. His hand hovers over the limited variety of first aid supplies the store carries, decides to grab two rolls just in case. And some Avengers band aids, just cause they're on sale. He's sure someone will find a use for them before tour is done.

There's a bored looking middle-aged man on the register and he doesn't bat an eye at Alex's purchases but his heart hammers in his chest anyway, like he's just waiting for the guys to jump out and demand to know what he's doing.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back in his hotel room Alex places his purchases onto the double bed and begins to poke through his suitcase for lube, hidden in a side zipped pouch behind a book about dog psychology he's been hoping to at least start reading. Maybe another night.

He feels a sense of calm settle over him as he heads back to the bed and unpackages everything, toes off his shoes and socks.

He takes off shirt and pants as well – it doesn't feel quite right with clothes on, the bandages seem more than enough though he keeps his boxers on, cock pressing half-heartedly against the silk. It's not quite the time for that yet.

Alex loves the weird zen sensation he gets as he starts wrapping the first bandage up his right arm – the one he always prefers to start with, something better about it being his dominant hand, it really gets to him, sends shivers down his spine.

He affixes the butterfly clip on the top of his arm where wrist meets hand and that's one.

His left arm is neater, more precise, just a touch tighter because he can wrangle his normal hand a hell of a lot better and it's honest to god bliss, the way his whole body just relaxes and the thoughts in his head slow to a gentle crawl.

He curls up in the bed then, pulls the sheet over him, tucks it under his chin. He'll just relax for a little while, get himself off when he wakes up.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alex jerks awake approximately half an hour later according to the ancient alarm clock resting on the bedside table. He checks his phone, makes sure no one is looking for, or going to check on him and rubs the sleep out of his eyes.

He'd love to go back to sleep right now but he can't. He knows this is the only chance he's going to have for a least another week or two and he wants to take full advantage of it.

He reaches for the lube which he'd kicked down to the bottom of the bed, pulls off his boxers, hips twitching at the slightest brush of his arms against them.

He holds the bottle just over the head of his cock, flinches at the cold sensation of lube running down it, making a fucking mess just as he likes it.

He doesn't touch himself though, not yet.

Instead, he puts the bottle to the side, starts by running his fingers through his hair, presses them against his cheeks and breathes steadily, in and out.

He slides them down his sides, pulls a little at his nipples and presses his back more firmly into the bed, cock rising in a gentle arc against his stomach.

Eventually he ends up on his knees cock in his hand and pillow in his mouth to stop himself from the making the kinds of sounds he really wants to.

He's close, so fucking close and his hearts pounding in his ears as he strokes himself and the feeling of the bandages is intoxicating because they're fucking soaked wet with lube and precome and he wants to come, deserves to and he's almost there and -

He's so caught up that he doesn't hear the laughter in the hallway or the keycard sliding into the door, doesn't see Jack's drunken form stumbling into the room.

“Hey Ale-What the fuck are you doing!?”

Comes Jack's voice and Alex leaps about a foot in the air, throws himself over the edge of the bed and away from the door.

This isn't happening, it isn't.

He's frantically trying to wrench the bandages over his arms as Jack makes his way towards the bed, eyes that glossy shade of drunk and part of Alex is praying that Jack won't remember in the morning but deep down he knows Jack isn't that gone yet – if he's walking and making coherent sentences, he'll remember.

“The fuck man?” Jack's thrown himself across the bed and has his head leaning over the side, nearly knocking into Alex's own as the bed bounces with the impact. Alex shoves the bandages under the bed and tries to sink into the plush carpet.

“Um” He says, because his mind is completely blank at this point, heartbeat thrumming through his veins.

Jack's eyes slide down then and Alex realises all too late that whilst he might have hidden the bandages he's forgotten that he's naked, and hard. Really fucking hard.

“Dude” Jack snorts, “I've been gone for hours why didn't you get decide to get jiggy with yourself earlier?”

“Um” Alex says again, there isn't any coming back from this really. Certainly not in the literal sense which despite his embarrassment is a little disappointing.

Jack reaches a hand up to pat him on the head, hand a little too heavy, a little too rough but alright, drunken head pats are not the worst way this could have gone.

“I'm going to lie here with a pillow on my head while you finish your party in the shower” Jack announces, rolling back over, face mashed into Alex's pillow. Alex hopes he won't notice the wet spot he's probably made or the spit on his pillow where he'd been biting on it.

“Yeah thanks, sorry” He mumbles before scrambling upwards and towards the bathroom, resolving never to make such a stupid mistake again. Jack was right he muses, stepping into the shower and turning the water on, jumping at the initial spray of cold water before it warms. Hee should definitely have started earlier and not in the middle of a shared hotel room.

It not likes it's the first time Jack's caught him with a proverbial hand down his pants, they're a close knit group of band and crew, everyone’s seen pretty much all of everyone at some point. It's best to just crack a few jokes afterward and then carry on like nothings happened.

But it's always been different with Jack. The fans aren't exactly off-track with their 'jalex' concept, him and Jack have been known to provide each other with drunken making out, handjobs, blowjobs and the occasional fuck and they're not opposed to each other sober either. It's just never been a serious thing, no flowers or romance. Sometimes they snuggle and share ice cream and liquor but that's as close as they come.

Alex wouldn't exactly have a problem with anything more but he knows his best friend and Jack isn't the type to want to be tied to anyone. Also, even if he and Jack were to spontaneously decide to make things more permanent, normal people don't view being sexually aroused by bandages a normal kind of thing. It's vastly different from dirty talk or sex toys or doing it in public places. Even Jack's anything goes nature would probably be horrified.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jack groans and sprawls his long limbs out across Alex's bed, revelling in that blissful just sufficiently drunk feeling humming across his body, tries not to think about how hard Alex had been, how hot he looked even when frozen in fright at being caught in the middle of his alone time but seriously, Jack has been out all night, Alex has had plenty of time to jack it.

Heh. Jack. That's his name. He snuggles a little deeper into the covers and then pauses. Alex had been awfully freaked out about being walked in on, diving over the side of the bed like a man possessed.

Hmm. Maybe Alex was trying to hide more than just his slightly off-kilter cock. Jack rolls across the bed again, curious and maybe, maybe he's hoping to find something damning, like a dildo or fleshlight or handcuffs or fruit, something that's sexual application is easily explained away but also excellent blackmail material for the future.

Instead he finds a mess of wet bandages, scrunched into a knotted ball. What the actual fuck. He hesitantly pulls them from under the bed, depositing them onto the bed beside him, sliding his feet onto the carpet as he sits up, confused.

Why the fuck would Alex have bandages on while he's jerking off? They're definitely wet and Jack's eyes scan the room and see the bottom of lube at the bottom of bed, so that's that mystery solved and there's not any blood on them, a thought which causes Jack's slightly muddled mind comes to an abrupt halt. Alex had been naked but Jack hadn't noticed if he was injured or not, wasn't thinking that but fuck, what if he is? Alex isn't exactly the most emotionally stable person he knows so the idea that not only might he be hurt, but that the possibly of him hurting himself isn't exactly out of the question.

Jack picks the bandages up and marches resolutely to the bathroom, not bothering to knock. He needs to know what's going on.

“Alex” He barks, watches the other man jump through the steamed glass of the shower, head poking around the door, fringe soaked flat to his head.

“What, Jack? Tell me you're not going to puke in here, please” He says, because Alex is most definitely a sympathy puker and the toilet is like three steps away from the shower and he'd really rather not.

Jack walks closer, reaches for the door and pulls it open.

“Why don't you tell me about these” He says, pushing the bandages against Alex's wet chest, an errant spray of water dampening his clothes and he probably should've taken his shoes off but whatever.

Alex throws himself back so fast he nearly slips against the tiles and Jack reaches a hand out to steady him only to be pushed away, Alex pinning himself into the corner, a sheen of water between them.

“It's nothing” He says and Jack frowns because this whole situation is the epitome of not nothing.

“Like hell it is, what the fuck are these for?” He snaps, reaching to turn off the taps, Alex remaining silent as the last remnants of water gurgle down the drain.

Jack stares at him, eyes running up and down Alex's body searching and terrified of finding something, some marks that he'd missed but there's nothing.

Alex watches him, curls his hands into fists.

“I said it's nothing” He repeats, albeit quieter, voice echoing in the tiny space and then he catches on to Jack's wandering eyes, realising what his best friend must be thinking, not that he's weird or obscene or disgusting, Jack's worried.

“It's, it's not what you think” Alex starts, “I'm not doing anything, not like that”

He doesn't want to say what it isn't anymore than what it is, wishes he could disappear and start the day over, not have it end up like this.

Jack's eyes narrow. “What is it then?” He says, voice dropping to mimic Alex's. If Alex is denying that he's hurting himself and Jack can't see any evidence to the contrary he doesn't know what this is.

And then, because he can't let it go. “Promise me”

Alex pulls himself away from the wall a little, stares Jack square in the eyes. “Promise.” He murmurs.

Jack steps back then, pushes the door of the shower open and strides out of the room, shucking his shoes off at the end of his bed and pulling his shirt off to replace it with a dry one.

He keeps watch as Alex hesitantly comes into the room behind him, shuffling around in his suitcase, towel around his waist before he gets dressed, towelling his hair into a damp nest, movements stiff and jerky like he knows Jack is watching.

Jack sits on his own bed, pats the space next to him. “Unless you can prove it, your promise means nothing” He says, wishing he didn't have to watch the way Alex's eyes flicker with hurt, because they don't lie to each other like that. About stupid things sure, but not this. They've always trusted each other with the important things. But he has to know.

Alex takes the proffered spot.

“It'sjustthisthingIdo” He says quickly, words running together in a conglomerate mass, hoping that the quicker he gets this over with, the quicker Jack will let him leave or Jack will leave. It's inevitable really.

“A thing you do” Jack repeats, eyebrow raised.

“It might be a sex thing” Alex whispers, a little slower. He doesn't want to say it again.

Right then, everything begins to slot into place in Jack's head. Alex's frantic need to get away from him even though they're comfortable with each other in that way, the lube wet bandages and okay, this is so beyond what Jack had been thinking that his brain might actually be melting.

He needs a fucking drink. He's about to get up, leave to crash Zack's room in search for the bottle of whiskey the guy always keeps for 'emergencies' except for the way that Alex is looking at him.

He has to say something.

But what do you say when you discover that your best friend and occasional friend with benefits has some kind of weird bandage fetish?

He isn't nearly drunk enough for what he decides is an appropriately comforting thing to say. Not 'Alex, you can be into whatever you want as long a it's not children or animals' or 'Alex, i'm okay with whatever you're into stop freaking out'

Nope, in proper, classy Barakat style; “Did you maybe want a hand with that?”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alex's response is pretty much what Jack's expecting, a sharp flinch away from him, eyes narrowed and Jack's almost completely sure he's about to get a mouthful of curses and angry words but instead Alex sighs and bows his head.

“Just go Jack, go and tell everyone and have a good laugh and leave me here to sleep, okay? I don't want to hear your fucking jokes right now” He says quietly.

“No Alex, I didn't mean -”

“Fuck off” Alex snaps, pushing off Jack's bed and heading back to his own. He wants to hide under the covers and not ever come out because come tomorrow morning he's going to the laughing stock of the tour and he can't deal with that right now. Jack's already started joking around and he's known for what, three whole seconds? He can't deal with this.

He feels the bed dip beside him, shoves his leg out to kick at Jack, knowing he's hit his target by the soft yelp the other man makes. A hand settles on his shoulder and Alex shoves it away.

“I said fuck off” He growls, sitting up, fingers reaching for Jack's shirt to shove him away, legs flailing as Jack uses muscles Alex wasn't even aware he had to pin him down.

“Alex, calm the fuck down okay” Jack says firmly, because he doesn't really want to take a trip to the emergency room because Alex has broken his nose with a flailing foot.

Of course, Alex Gaskarth doesn't ever go quietly. He fights silently though, trying to wiggle out from underneath him, fingernails digging harshly into Jack shoulders, tiny pinpricks of pain.

Jack doesn't have the strength to hold Alex down infinitely so he goes for the one approach that might make Alex stop, at least for long enough to hear reason. He lowers his head and presses his lips to Alex's, swallowing the other boys muffled protests and slowly, slowly, Alex stops fighting.

Jack pulls away after a few moments, hoping that Alex won't start thrashing around again.

“This isn't a fucking joke Jack”

He rests his forehead against Alex's.

“I wasn't trying to make fun of you,” He murmurs, “The offer was genuine”

Alex just stares at him and up close like this his eyes are even more gorgeous, the ring of dark chocolate even more defined, long eyelashes fluttering as his chest heaves. Jack would do anything for him, anything for those eyes to look only at him.

“You can't be okay with this” Alex says eventually, lips twisting into a frown. “I know it's fucking weird okay and I don't know why I like it I just do and, and -”

Jack covers Alex's mouth with his hand, the other man falling silent without protest.

“It's a little bit weird” He agrees, and Alex's eyes scrunch shut. “But hey, since when have we not been weird?”

A single eye cracks open to look at him.

“Maybe I don't get it, but i've seen a lot of freaky porn and by those standards you liking bandages seems awfully vanilla”

“Besides, I think you'd make a very cute mummy” He adds, and Alex lips twitch into a smile behind his hand. Bingo.

He kisses Alex's forehead. “Just yanno, you might have to explain a little more so I don't fuck things up for you, but really Lex, this isn't a big deal. We like what we like.”

Alex's hands come up to pry Jack's fingers away from his mouth and he simply stares at the other man. Jack is legitimately okay with him being some kind of weird kink having freak.

In retrospect, Alex needn't have worried so much, this is how Jack's always been, accepting. But still, this is above and beyond anything he could've hoped for.

“So,” Jack interrupts Alex's train of thought. “You wanna take me up on my offer, or call it a night?”

Part of Alex wants to sleep on it, make sure Jack isn't having an alcohol induced moment of casual acceptance but goddamn it, this could be his one and only chance to make a long time fantasy come true.

“They're wet though” He blurts, thinking of the wet mess of bandages he'd left in the shower. He's not really keen on the idea of them being on his skin, cold and gross. He has standards and hotel bathroom floors are covered in god only knows what, bleach be damned.

“Well, you've got scarves don't you, would they work?” Jack asks and Alex's face must give him away because Jack is suddenly smirking at him.

“Alex you dirty boy” He purrs and Alex shivers because it's difficult to concentrate on how worried you are about sharing your freaky kink with someone when they have a sex voice like Jack's.

Jack pats his head. “Stay here” He says, hopping off the bed to pull a few scarves out of Alex's suitcase. The knowledge that Alex has probably been using them to get off many a time sending a pleasant warmth curling through his gut.

He drops them on the bed next to Alex. “So, how do you want to do this?” He asks, pressing himself against Alex's other side, Alex's back to his chest.

Alex shrugs, feels a blush rising in his cheeks because okay, this isn't fair he can't just tell Jack about every single dirty thought he's had about this scenario since he was nineteen. He can't.

Jack kisses him properly then, long, languorous sweeps of tongue and a hand pressed to the back of his neck and Jack tastes faintly of whiskey and Alex's breath hitches, rolling his body so they're chest to chest as they reconnect their lips.

“C'mon, you can tell me”

“I uh, whatever you're comfortable with” Alex mumbles, hands hesitantly curled against Jack's bony hips. It's like they've been taken back their first time, unsure of what to do.

Jack drops his voice even lower, lips brushing against the skull on Alex's neck. “You gotta tell me what you want babe,” He breathes, “Want me to wrap you up all pretty for me, on your arms like before?”

Alex lets out a noise he will later deny as being a squeak.

“Or maybe,” Jack continues, “Maybe you want them around your cock, a present just for me?”

Jesus fucking christ on a boat.

“Yeah, “Alex groans, “All of the above” Jack Barakat is probably the most amazing human on the planet, tapping into exactly what Alex wants without a second though, like some magical being.

Jack chuckles into Alex's neck. It's not so hard to figure out what the other man wants, he's always been able to read Alex like an open book.

He reaches over Alex to snag a scarf, untangling it. It's a god awful scarf really, black and green checks and little stringy bits on either end, he hates them and really, he can't think of better use for them.

“Y'wanna loose the shirt?” He asks and Alex nods, fingers curling around the hem and tugging before tossing it to the floor. Jack pauses to appreciate for just a moment, because whilst Zack might be the owner of the gun show, there's something gorgeous about the slight definition that courts Alex's wiry frame, a shape that Jack's own lanky figure still can't get a handle on. He's on board with all the girls who want to lick Alex from top to toe because he's fucking beautiful.

He pulls Alex's left arm closer towards him, chin resting on top of the other mans head. “Tell me if it's too tight or whatever, if i'm doing it wrong” He says, trying to recount that one first aid class he'd taken when he was fourteen. It had been a day out of proper classes is all he can really recall. He winds it carefully around Alex's wrist, feels Alex shiver beneath him, hips rocking up just a little. Jesus.

“Little tighter” Alex murmurs, eyes following Jack's hands as they circle his wrist. He's still not entirely sure this isn't a very detailed, vivid dream.

Jack finishes one arm, tucking the end of the scarf neatly into itself, reaches up to peck Alex on the nose before reaching for the other, this isn't so hard. Alex is though, pushing up against Jack's thigh in little hitching movements.

Alex squirms a little more as he starts to wrap his other arm and Jack moves Alex's other hand up to his mouth, sucks on Alex's fingers to distract him a little because he wants to do this right, not have the scarves unravel as soon as things get a little rough.

“Are you implying what I think you're implying?” Alex says after he finishes, the other mans fingers slick with spit.

“Just wanted to distract you a bit, you're calling the shots remember”

Alex blushes, can't help it now that things seem to have drifted out of dream territory, now that he's lying underneath Jack with two multicoloured scarves on his arms and he's so turned on he's actually tempted to pin Jack down and rut against him like they're seventeen again.

“Much rather suck on your fingers” He says, rocking his hips up. If he's being offered the opportunity to live out this fantasy he's gonna do it right.


End file.
